


For No Reason At All

by stuffedwmuffins



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: DNF, Dystopian, Georgewastaken, Gream - Freeform, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, dreamnotfound, mlm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:27:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffedwmuffins/pseuds/stuffedwmuffins
Summary: The air is stiff and musty, filled with the smell of an artificial world. The sky is gray in the city, no longer is it coloured a bright blue with welcoming, white, fluffy clouds. A human is just trying to survive in this broken, barely hospitable planet that was once called Earth. One of said humans is a young man, around 20, with overgrown blondish brown hair, who calls himself Dream.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

The air is stiff and musty, filled with the smell of an artificial world. The sky is gray in the city, no longer is it coloured a bright blue with welcoming, white, fluffy clouds. Long are the birds and their songs, instead an eerie silence always hangs in the air, only broken by the creaking of metal in abandoned, decaying buildings. Or the sounds of creatures scuffling through the trash, or hissing at by passers. Sometimes, if a creature of some sort, maybe an old starving raccoon or deformed rat, or maybe one of the strange mangled monsters that appeared long ago, is disturbed then the silence is broken by the screams and struggles of fighting creatures. Sometimes its the clanking of metal on cracked and broken pavement as one of those robotic human-old machines walks through the city, seemingly scanning for something unknown. And rarely, it is a human. A human searching for food or supplies, a human carefully avoiding the mangled creatures lurking in the shadows of fallen buildings. A human just trying to survive in this broken, barely hospitable planet that was once called Earth. One of said humans is a young man, around 20, with overgrown blondish brown hair, who calls himself Dream. Today, the silence is interrupted by said boy's feet, protected by worn out black platform boots, crunching the broken glass under the soles of his feet as he walks through the plaza of rubble from broken buildings and gas scented, overgrown cars. His breath forms a foggy cloud in the autumn air, though there are no colourful leaves or crisp air in the city anymore. Instead the world is in a constant state of switching between boiling, sweltering heat to a cold and frozen atmosphere, depending on your location and which area was more affected by The End. The man’s eyes scan his surroundings, taking in the broken and fallen skyscrapers with vines and thorns growing from the cracks or the holes that were once windows, and the crumbled smaller brick buildings, reduced to nothing but rubble with only a few bricks and wood to represent the once beautiful architecture that may have resided there. His eyes pass over the broken automobiles, shattered and overgrown with plants, you can still smell the stench of gasoline if you get too close. His eyes finally land on an old long abandoned grocery store, the sign a few feet away from the broken building, the words now faded and unintelligible. He keeps his eye out around him for other people or monsters who could be waiting to ambush him, as he tries not to grimace at the sour tasting air emerging from the old, broken pick-up truck laying a few feet away. It’s not safe anywhere anymore, especially the city. His foot steps echo through the dark, abandoned room as he cautiously steps into the musty old building. All food and supplies from the shelves and displays has long since been stolen, but the store is one of the only lasting places with a working water faucet. Dream’s plan is simple, fill his old glass bottle and his makeshift, leather water pouch with liquid from the rusty pipes and get out. But as he pulls out his taped together and flickering, flashlight and starts his journey through the tall, forbidding, empty shelves to the other side of the building, he hears a crash and some frantic scuffling and realizes that this may not be the quick in and out he thought it would be. “Shit” he mutters under his breath, and cringes as his profanity bounces off the walls and echos through the room, louder than he would of liked. His breath is shallow as he pauses his footsteps and slowly turns in a circle, running the beam of his flashlight slowly over his surroundings, searching for the source of the noise. When he sees nothing but familiar shelves, empty metal baskets, and scratched up “For Sale” signs he slowly walks farther down the aisle he is in. Almost tiptoeing as he tries to make his steps as quiet as possible. As the flickering beam of his light lands on an old, cracked in half Customer Service desk, a barely audible gasp reaches the blondes ears. Dream freezes at the soft noise, now convinced that he is not alone in the dark, musty building. His footsteps echo through the large, cold room as he approaches the desk slowly, quietly pulling his repurposed, well-loved kitchen knife out of it’s small, homemade sheath resting at his hip. The slightly rusty metal of the blade catches the faint light of the flickering flashlight to reveal the remnants of dried blood, still caked on the blade. His mind quickly runs over a plan, as his eyes scan the ground for something he could throw. If the culprit is one of those foul smelling, creatures with leaking eyes and mangled skin that Dream refers to as “Crapheads” then if he throws an object over the counter it will run at him, screeching like a madman, to attack him, giving the boy an opportunity to impale it by making it run into his knife (they’re violent, no one said they were smart). If it’s a rat or weasel of some sort, it’ll most likely run away, startled at the sound, unless it is infected with rabies or something similar. And so the green eyed man carefully grabs a nearby old empty soup can, some of the rust crumbling off onto his gloved hand, brings his arm back. and chucks it as hard as he can at the broken counter. What he forgot to consider however, is if it is a human, a young man just like him. So you can understand how Dream’s heart freezes as he hears an accented male voice curse under his breath, and how it starts to pound in his ears as he see’s a skinny form suddenly rise up behind the counter, gun in hand. His breath hitches and his heart races as he stares into the barrel of a gun. The man stares him straight in the eye, unflinching. “Who are- Who are you?” The voice shakily questions.


	2. Compelling Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :/

“Who are- Who are you?” 

“Wh…” Dream’s eyes flick from the British man’s dark brown, almost black eyes to the gun clenched in his white-knuckled hand. He let’s his eyes wander down the mans body, observing his skinny frame and dirty clothing. The boy looked around Dream’s age, maybe a little younger with dark brown, short cropped hair. He had long, dark eyelashes and an annoyingly attractive face shape, adorned with high cheekbones and light freckles. The brunette was wearing a ripped, blue cargo jacket decorated with blood and mud, along with torn and raggedy, black skinny jeans. Dreams eyes finally passed down to his feet, adorned with old hiking boots, that had an alarming amount of holes in them. The blonde quickly flicked his eyes back up to the blood stained pistol pointed at his head.  
“’Who am I?’” Dream was not expecting that question. Well he wasn’t expecting to be held at gun point by a surprisingly attractive man today at all, but normally in this situation he would already have a bullet through his head. Social pleasantry’s just didn’t happen anymore. The only conversations Dream was used to were with himself at night when he was trying to sleep, talking his fears away. Or a few witty remarks to his opponent in battle, teasing and taunting with a confident smile as he internally prepared himself to take a life. He hadn’t had someone just ask him a question as simple as “Who are you?” in- well ever. “Why would you want to know that?” He forced out, trying (and failing) to seem more confident than he was feeling.   
The dark haired man licked his lips, breaking eye contact for a moment to look to his left. This is when Dream noticed that the mans hands were shaking lightly, and his breathing was shaky and shallow.   
He’s nervous. the blonde observed.   
“Just tell me who you are.” The Brit demanded, resuming eye contact. Dream tilted his blonde, overgrown head, intrigued. He took a tentative step forward, deciding to test his luck, “What if I don’t want to?” He asked, raising one eyebrow cockily, a grin starting to form on his face. He didn’t really know why he was doing this, maybe it’ll distract the man long enough for him to escape or attack, maybe he’ll get shot in the head, or maybe he was just drawn to play with this man for an unknown reason. He watches as the mans expression faulters to one of confusion, something flickering in his dark eyes, “What?” He asked feet shuffling against the cracked concrete softly.   
“What if I don’t want to?” Dream repeats small grin growing into a full shit-eating smirk. This was more fun than it should have been. What is it about this man? “Well… Then I’ll just shoot you.” The smaller man said almost sarcastically, gesturing lightly with his gun as if in example. “It’s a simple decision, tell me your name or get a bullet through your head.” His dark eyes stared right through Dream, igniting something in him that he didn’t understand. Dream felt a strange force pulling him towards this man, to learn all his secrets, to get to know him. And he couldn’t do that dead now could he?   
He lets a soft, breathy laugh escape his lips, “My names Dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading :D


	3. I Can't Help It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George get to know each other a little more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at pacing- thanks for 3 Kudos :D

“Dream..” The British man repeated, letting the letters roll off his tongue, intrigued, almost as if inspecting the way it sounded in his mouth. Dream liked the way it sounded when he said it, his accent giving the word life in a way he hadn’t heard before. “Hm” the brunette hummed lightly, looking to the ground and raising both eyebrows. He smiled, looking back up and extending his hand out, “I’m George.” He stated, tilting his head to the left slightly. Dream felt something inside him ache. Surprised by the sudden change of mood, the blonde grew suddenly awkward, “Uh..” He studied Georges face, scanning his eyes for answers in confusion, before noticing the Brits extended hand, patiently waiting to take Dream’s hand and shake it. Dream raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly, “What are you-“   
“What? Have you never shaken hands before?” George giggled lightly, stepping over the broken Customer Service desk to grab Dream’s hand and shake it up and down. The green eyed boy stepped back quickly in surprise, “No- I… why?” He stuttered, almost panicked sounding. George giggled again, a large smile painted on the shorter boy’s face. Dream liked that sound, it made something bubble inside him and he found himself smiling widely against his will. He wanted to hear that sound more, he wanted to be the cause of that sound, he wanted to make the stranger happy. What the hell- Dream thought staring at the brunette man, Is this what human interaction is normally like?   
George’s hand breaking away from his snapped him from his little trance, “Nice to meet you.” He said, smile still evident on his face. “Uh yeah- nice to meet you too” Dream responded, nodding his head slightly and smiling down at the Brit. He glanced around the abandoned building around them, letting out a slow breath. “So uhm..” He flicked his green eyes back to meet George’s “What are you doing here?” He tilted his head slightly “And, like, why didn’t you shoot me?” George’s smile faltered slightly, and left his face as he started to talk, “Well… I was looking for someone,” he started shifting from foot to foot softly, fiddling with his hair “And I thought you were someone else, that’s why I pulled a gun on you” he chuckled softly. “Sorry about that.” Dream licked his lips, “No- I’m… used to it-“ he said causing the other man to look back up at him, “I was actually surprised you didn’t just shoot a bullet through my head” He laughed, trying to bring back the light mood from a few moments ago. George scoffed good-naturedly shaking his head, “Nah, I don’t actually like- y’know- killing people.”   
The blonde nodded starting to walk in the direction of the water faucet at the back of the building, “Yeah me neither” he said gesturing for George to follow. Their footsteps echoed through the dark building, side by side. Dream’s flashlight flickered softly, and you could hear the soft drip-drop of water in the only slightly awkward silence. Dream glanced at George through the corner of his eye, watching as the Brit glanced around the room. “Soooo….” The taller man started, clearing his throat awkwardly. George laughed softly, “You haven’t seen another person in a while have you?” He said teasingly turning his head to look at Dream as they approached the faucet. Dream laughed softly, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head, “No, not anyone who’s friendly at least”   
They fell back into silence as Dream bent down to fill up his containers with the clear liquid. Dream knew he should be more suspicious of this man, he was a stranger after all. He could be a thief looking to run off with Dream’s supplies, or he could be one of those cannibals, he is quite skinny and probably in need of food. The blonde pondered over this, glancing up at George as the Brit looking around the dark room cautiously, arms wrapped around his skinny frame. Somehow Dream didn’t feel worried with George, and he couldn’t help but feel that his life was about to get a lot better.


	4. Stale Bread and a Moldy Shed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream show's George his "house"

“You’re 24 years old?!” Dream exclaimed in shock, mouth hanging open slightly letting the stale bread he had been chewing fall out of his mouth and plop in the grass between his crossed legs. After retrieving the water, George had tried to say goodbye but Dream insisted he come with him for the night. He could remember the moment perfectly, the damp smell of the abandoned stores air filling his lungs as he let in a deep breath, “So-“ Dream said screwing the cap back onto the glass bottle in his hand. “I guess I’ll be going then.” George said, sounding slightly hesitant (or was that just wishful thinking?) “I’ll see you around” the Brit smiled at the blonde, already starting to turn away towards the door at the other side of the building. “Wait-“ Dream said taking a step after him, he couldn’t let him get away now. He barely knew him yet, “Why don’t you come spend the night with me?” he tried not to sound desperate, but he had a feeling it wasn’t working. George turned his head back to his slowly, studying Dream’s face almost suspiciously, “Why…? Why would I do that?” the brunette licked his lips, warily glancing to his left. Dream suddenly felt stupid. Why does it matter that much anyway? George probably thinks he’s trying to kidnap him. “I mean I don’t know… you could check out my place!” he flicked his green eyes down to his feet, shifting back to forth. “I also don’t really wanna be alone again just yet.” He chuckled sheepishly, glancing back up to meet George’s eyes. It was silent for what felt like hours, green eyes on brown, the air tense as Dream waited for an answer. Finally George sighed, breaking eye contact to roll his eyes with a smile, “Fiiiine.” He said shaking his head, “You’re such an idiot though.” He said lightheartedly before turning back towards the door. Dream couldn’t help the huge grin that ingulfed his face as he ran ahead of George, heading towards the door, “You won’t regret it.” He promised.   
Dream snapped back to reality at George’s amused laugh, “Yeah did you not expect that?” he giggled “Also clean that up you’re disgusting.” He said with a playful grimace, gesturing to the fallen bread on the ground. “What I was sure you were younger than me!” the blonde exclaimed, absentmindedly grabbing the bread from in between his legs and popping it back in his mouth causing George to crinkle his nose in distaste. “Well then how old are you?” He questioned, grabbing another slice of bread from the loaf sitting between them with long slender fingers. Dream watched as he brought the slice up to his slightly smiling mouth and took a bite. “I’m around 21 I think, I don’t actually know.” He laughed slightly running a hand through his messy (and slightly greasy), blonde hair. George raised an eyebrow, still chewing on the tough, stale bread, “How do you not know how old you are?” he muttered threw his full mouth. Dream grabbed the loaf of bread between them, stuffing it back into his faded backpack, George eyed the bread with dismay but didn’t say anything. Dream turned back to George, biting at his cheek a little, “I don’t know,” he said, shifting a little closer to the brunette, “I’ve been alone like most of my life, I kinda lost track eventually.” He shrugged lightly, cleaning his teeth from access bread with his tongue. George’s brown eyes stared at him quizzically, he too shifted closer to the other causing Dream to glance up at his face, “Do you even know your birthday?” he tilted his head slightly, forehead furrowed.   
Dream glanced from Georges eyes to their almost touching legs and slowly back, “Uh.. yeah I do.” He smiled slightly at the Brit, “It’s August 12th” the taller man cautiously shifted even closer to George so that their legs were barely touching. What am I doing? He thought, eyeing Georges face, “What about you?” he asked slowly. To Dream’s disappointment and slight embarrassment, George backed up until his back rested against the moldy, cracked wood wall behind him before answering, “November 1st.” He glanced around the room, “Also when you said we were going to “your place” I expected, y’know, an actual house.” He said teasingly, seemingly eager to change the subject. Dream stifled a sigh, observing the old wooden shed around him, his sleeping bag layed in the corner on a pile of moldy hay, a small lantern sitting beside it along with a dirty Advil container. “I mean come on you don’t even have a floor!” George laughed lightly, gesturing with his hand to survey the brown, stomped down grass that served as flooring. Dream chuckled falling back to lie down, “Shut upppp…” he groaned bringing his arms up to rub his face. George barked a laugh at him, causing Dream to whip back up, pointing an accusing finger at the shorter man, “Oh and I bet you live in a fucking castle don’t you.” The blonde deadpanned sarcastically, bringing his elbow down to his knee, resting his head on his hand. George was grinning widely, “Basically.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading :D


	5. What is wrong with me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tysm for all the support :))

The sound of faraway screeching could be heard in the dark shed, probably a fight over food between two Crapheads or, a darker part of Dream’s mind suggested, it could be a dying human, left alone in the night to be torn apart by the claws and teeth of mangled creatures and radiation poisoning. Dream screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself to keep them shut tight, trying not to think about the orgin of the horrifying noises. He lay on the cold ground in the dark shed, the only light coming from a dim lantern beside him, on the other side of the lantern lay George, wrapped in a thin sleeping bag. Dream had insisted he take the sleeping bag, because “he was a guest after all” The Brit had protested and they had argued for a good 30 minutes before George guiltily gave in. A shiver racked Dream’s bones as he stared at George’s back, comfortably protected from the cold. Dream was starting to regret not keeping the sleeping bag to himself. He heard a sigh escape George’s lips as the brunette suddenly turned over to face the younger man, staring at him with annoyance, though Dream could see the underlying guilt in his gaze. “I can hear your teeth chattering like crazy.” He said unzipping the side of the sleeping bag, “Do you want to share?” Dream watched with interest as the older man rearranged the unzipped sleeping bag to lay over him like a blanket, with just enough room to cover another person. “Uh-” the blondes eyes flicked up to Georges expecting gaze, and he exhaled a little nervously as he muttered “Sure....” and crawling over. George held up the blanket to let Dream in as the blonde shimmied under, still shivering lightly. “There.” The brunette said, immediately turning back around to face the wall of the musty shed, “Now try and be quieter won’t you?” he said with no malice in his voice. Dream only hummed a response, unable to focus on anything other than the warmth of George’s back pressed against his.  
The golden rays of sunshine running through the broken window of the old shed woke Dream up the next morning, the light causing him to scrunch up his face, squeezing his eyes shut. He raised his lanky arms up to stretch the sleep out of his bones, feeling his body move made him suddenly aware of the warmth pressed against his side. The blonde shot up into a sitting position quickly, causing his head to spin at the sudden movement. He stared at the smaller man, curled up beside him with incredibly wide eyes, mouth open in shock. The boy slowly started to calm as he watched the brunette’s peaceful, sleeping face, he found himself tilting his head slightly as he admired the way to golden light hit the man’s hair and cheeks, making him look almost angelic in the morning light. His green eyes scanned over the other man’s sleeping face, observing the way his slightly blue lips hung open softly, and the way a few strands of his messy hair hung over his left eye. _Woah.._ he thought feeling his body moving without telling it to, his hand reaching out to softly brush the back of his fingers against the Brit’s soft cheek. Dream’s breath caught in his throat as he felt the soft skin against his hand, “Woah...” he breathed out loud this time, barely audible. Suddenly he felt the other man move under his hand, the brunette stirring softly and licking his purple lips. Dream yanked his hand back in panic, his heart pounding in his ears as the other man’s left eye popped open, looking Dream right in the eye. _Shit shit shit shit_ the blonde panicked _Did he feel it? Did he hear me? Did he-_ His thoughts short-circuited as his attention drew back to the man’s dark, brown eyes staring right at him, they held eye contact for what felt like hours, but was probably just a few seconds, emerald green on chocolate brown. After for what felt, to Dream, as an eternity the man closed his eye again sleepily turning onto his back, “Good morning...” he muttered, his voice soft and tired. Dream cleared his throat awkwardly as he tried to settle his racing heart, _What the hell is wrong with me?_ “Good morning.” he choked out, suddenly very interested in sorting through his bag. The blonde suddenly whipped his head back up from the bag he was rummaging through to ask George a question, “Hey so...” only to find George already staring right at him. The words died in Dream’s throat as he stared back at George, he licked his lips nervously, his pulse rising again. “What?” George asked calmly, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Uh I’m...” the taller man started, regaining composure, “I’m almost out of bread, do you want to go hunting for breakfast instead?” Dream ran a hand through his long, messy hair offering a small smile George’s way. George glanced away, seemingly staring into space for a long minute, his brown eyes empty, before shaking his head sharply, snapping back to reality. “Hmm..” the man hummed, a little more life to his voice as he glanced back at Dream, a soft grin starting to grace his lips, “I have a better idea.”


	6. I'll Follow You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream's starting to hate George's plan

“Why are we doing this again?” Dream groaned as he trudged through knee high mud, cursing as he stubbed his toe on a hidden hunk of old car buried in the mud. He could hear George giggle from a few feet in front of him, “You showed me your place! Time for me to show you mine.” The brunette quirked an eyebrow slightly as he turned his head back to watch Dream struggle through the thick mud. Dream huffed as he reached the end of the mud, taking the hand George offered to pull him out with. “How long will this take exactly?” Dream asked looking at George through the side of his eye as he tried, and failed, to shake excess mud from his worn out boots. The brit yawned, unbothered, as he continued to trudge through the forest ahead of them, “About a full day, maybe longer if we get caught up.” he stated calmly, ducking under a low hanging branch. Dream whipped his head towards George, “You didn’t tell me that!!” he exclaimed, running ahead to catch up to George. “Why do you leave so far away?!” the blonde cried grabbing George’s wrist to bring him to a halt. George only seemed amused, stifling a laugh as he pulled his wrist away, “I actually have a home,” he said cockily, his British accent making him sound stuck up to Dream’s ears, “I don’t live in some broken down shed in a trashy slum.” Dream’s gaze hardened slightly as George resumed his walk, leaving Dream staring at George’s back. “What a fucking prick.” Dream muttered quietly, sounding strangely fond to his ears.  
After about another hour of walking they finally exited the overgrown, muddy, forest. They instead entered a run down, broken town that reeked of smoke and gas. The pavement of the road was cracked and overgrown with grass and weeds, the houses broken, some completely collapsed, with broken flipped over cars littering the streets. Dream spotted fire spouting from one of them, and could make out a fresh corpse inside. He stifled a shudder. It was quiet, very quiet. Dream was used to quiet, but he didn’t like it here, it felt wrong somehow. “Holy shit...” Dream muttered, nose scrunching at the awful smell, “This place is awful.” George nodded beside him, “Yeah, this place is still inhabited, so it’s a popular place for cannibals and tainted.” Dream didn’t stifle the shiver that went up his spine as he looked at the house around him, now feeling as if anyone could be inside, watching. “Tainted?” he questioned, cringing as he spotted an arm poking out from under a beam of a collapsed house. The man beside him glanced at him in surprise, “Have you not heard of tainted before?” George questioned, raising his eyebrows slightly when the taller man shook his head. “Oh shit. They’re the people who have been infected by the radiation,” he explained, narrowing his eyes slightly, “Y’know the bloody weird looking fuckers who screech like the spawn of the devil.” Dream snorted in amusement slightly at the older man, “Ah those. I just called them Crapheads.” George chuckled softly, glancing at Dream, “It’s fitting.”  
Dream felt that weird feeling in his chest again, as if a rat was living in his ribcage scurrying around, as he stared at George, examining his features. He hated this feeling. “Uh Geo-” He was cut off by the sound of screams coming from behind them, Dream whirled around pulling out his rusty kitchen knife quickly. He heard George pull out his gun as he saw the three Crapheads, I mean tainted, run towards them with snapping, bloodstained teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just for fun :) I am not an author, I am an illustrator- this is just for fun :) 
> 
> probably sucks
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
